Fate/Broken Sky

Workshop.

It was an innocent and completely ordinary word. After all, what craftsmen didn't have such a workshop?

No matter if you were a carpenter or potter, almost all craftsmen needed their own dedicated workspace to excel in their chosen trade.

It would be terribly inconvenient if a blacksmith had to make a sword in his kitchen.

However, my Father's workshop was a bit different.

For one, it had been built completely underground in a sealed chamber, far away from any prying eyes that might otherwise intervene.

Not that he was actually doing any wicked activities down there.

My steps echoed through the otherwise silent staircase. It was dimly lit, with torches lining the walls serving their best to substitute the absent sunlight.

The smell of smoke was strong in the air as I wandered deeper with directed steps. I knew exactly where I was going, even if my presence within these chambers was rare.

My visits here were never without special cause. This was the creepiest set of rooms I had ever seen in my life, with an atmosphere that chilled the spine.

Nevertheless, it was also the safest set of rooms in the entire estate considering just how protected it was by Father's Magic.

Even now, I could feel a slight stab at my subconscious mind, telling me that I was walking straight towards an entirely avoidable yet gruesome death. It was both a natural instinct in my body that foretold of danger, but also an artifically stimulated one Father made use of.

A torch rested in my grasp as I navigated the underground halls. Although there were already torches in Father's Workshop, I didn't want to screw myself in case they burned out whilst I was still down here.

It was as silent as snow, deathly so. I spotted a spider's web that rested at the corner of the ceiling, yet I wondered if there were even any insects here for the spider to catch.

There were tables and shelves strewn about, many were used to hold stacks of paper and documents. Various tools and materials rested haphazardly, some placed dangerously close to the torches, bordering on a fire hazard.

"I really need to clean this place up after he dies." I lampooned with a shake of my head as I lamented the fate of my inheritance.

Well, it might happen soon anyway. Father had me really late, he's already pushing his late 50's by now. He might have actually married Mother just to have an heir, it sounded just like something he would totally do.

But I do wonder what Father wants from me. Aunt Perdix looked a bit worried when she told me to come down here, hm...

I mused that thought in a contemplative silence.

We didn't talk often, after all, even if he was technically home most of the time.

Well, maybe it had something to do with the subject of my recent lessons. They were all about studying up on that High Akkadian language. I had even stayed up last night reading up on the scrolls he had given me, and I was still very much fatigued from that choice.

He hadn't really elaborated on why I needed to memorize the alphabet of a fallen civilization's language, but Father had never quite elaborated on anything at all really, so it was far from what I'd consider strange.

I resumed my walk with these lingering thoughts in mind. However, I soon found that I wouldn't be able to muse on them for too long, for in the next moment, my chest stilled.

CRACK~!

A sudden and unexpected cracking resounded against my ears as I instinctively narrowed my eyes.

...What was that!?

I snapped my gaze from left to right as I held my breath, searching for its exact source.

Almost immediately, I found it.

A shattered pole, one made of wood that had been ruptured from some kind of blunt force too strong for it to have possibly endured.

It was one of Father's tools, maybe a type of measuring stick of some kind or the other. But its discovery did not ease the tension in my chest one bit, rather it might have even fueled my anxiety into a full-blown panicked frenzy!

No, I still needed to think rationally.

...Who could have broken this?

Well, it might not even be a 'who' but a 'what' as the wood could have also broken from the process of natural decay... but that seemed incredibly unlikely as I took a closer look at the scene.

The wooden pole seemed to have been thrown against the wall or something along those lines, which was the initial impact that broke it apart. However, it evidently hadn't been there before and originated from another chamber deeper in the workshop.

With narrowed eyes, I reluctantly walked deeper, unsure whether this was rational or not.

And deeper did I find some clues.

There were evident signs of a struggle having taken place. Overturned tables, torn up furniture, and worst of all, claw marks.

What the...?

A drop of sweat trickled down my brow as I considered the implications of this discovery.

At first, I thought it had been an intruder, with all this mess and their lack of presence. It might have possibly been a thief, sifting through the papers and cabinets for something valuable.

But that didn't seem to be the case, in fact, the perpetrator was probably not even human.

These claw marks were the marks of a beast, no man could have possibly made such marks with their own bare hands unless they were part lion or eagle...

I held my breath, if it really was a wild animal, then it was most likely still around here and that meant I was in the most immediate of danger.

Even worse, I was alone...

Jumping into the most reasonable next course of action, I returned to the previous roon and kneeled down to take the larger piece of the shattered wooden pole. It wasn't an actual weapon by any standard measure, but it would be better than nothing.

Yet the moment I tried to stand back up using the pole fashioned as a makeshift spear, a piercing thought struck my subconscious mind.

...DODGE!

I listened to my instincts without a moment of hesitation as my heartbeat skyrocketed, leaping to the side as the pressure drummed against my ribcage.

My body crashed against the stone floor as I cluctched my head to protect it from the impact, the air leaving my lungs as I gasped.

With a resounding clatter, the wooden pole I held was inadvertently launched away from my hands onto the other side of the room as I failed to properly hold on to it due to the panic.

But that matter no longer took precedence as the stone flooring that I had been previously standing on was struck by a great descending force so hard that it instantly cracked like glass, the dust shooting up in a gust of rubble.

I huffed a deep breath as my blood froze and my eyes widened from the sight of the perpetrator.

There it is...!

Standing on two legs with the stature of a man, it gazed down at me as it lifted back its cleaver-like blade from the floor. I said 'gaze', but that was a reach considering it did not even have eyes, or eye sockets for that matter, but only a set of a predatory jaws you would find on a reptile's skull.

The beast was some kind of vaguely humanoid creature completely composed of nothing but bones, even its weapon, the sword that looked sharp enough to cut through hardened clay was made from the same material.

It held that cleaver-like sword in its right hand, of which greatly resembled a human hand, but its left hand was the exact opposite, with long and serrated claws that would bring great fear to any prey animal.

And it wasn't even wearing any clothes, not that it needed any, after all...

There was not a single bit of flesh and blood. Yet the skeleton moved as if there was, ignoring all forms of conventional logic.

But it wasn't like such a thing had to abide by logic. When it came to creatures born of Magic, there was no such thing.

I knew exactly what it was after I first caught sight of the fiend.

Dragon Tooth Warrior.

A kind of Magical Beast construct often utilized by those who wielded the power of Magic, as granted by the Goddess Hecate.

They were created by burrowing pieces of a Dragon's tooth under the ground and nourishing it with Magical Power.

It was like a seed that would sprout when given water, except a dozen thousand times faster as the entire skeleton would rapidly emerge from the ground like an undead starving for life.

Of course, Dragon Tooth Warriors weren't actual undead, the skeleton was far too unnatural for it to have once belonged to an actual living creature. They were more akin to a Familliar innately linked to the greater will of their master.

At least, that's how it was according to my admittedly limited understanding.

Just one entire tooth of a Dragon was enough to spawn forth a whole squadron of these monsters. Which begs the question of how this specific one got here in the first place and why it was alone...

After all, they were completely artificial, and did not spawn naturally without the presence of a Magic Caster.

Regardless, I should start thinking less about the circumstance and more on my survival!

The Dragon Tooth Warrior swung its cleaver-like blade in a sideways slicing motion as the sword effortless cut through the wind and made contact with my soft flesh, severing the skin open as blood rushed out.

S-Shit...!

I almost tripped back as I grasped my left tricep in pain. The blood was leaking like a waterfall as panic surged through my senses.

...It's fast!

I desperately scrambled back as my feet barely dragged the rest of my body out of harm's way. It did not hesitate in chasing after me as the Dragon Tooth Warrior lunged forward and slashed down with its inhuman claws.

I gritted my teeth as I quickly swiped a broom beside us and held it in front of me with both of my hands firmly grasping the handle.

It immediately served its intended purpose as an unreliable barrier as the Dragon Tooth Warrior's claws descended on the handle with a loud thud, my arms struggled to hold on to it as the impact sent cracks throughout the broom's handle, almost breaking it in the process.

But that window of opportunity was all I needed as I swiftly kicked upward onto the Dragon Tooth Warrior's shins.

It did more damage to my foot as I winced from the pain, but the Dragon Tooth Warrior visibly retracted back before I repositioned myself with my feet firmly in a stance.

"Dýnami!" I chanted the Divine Word as Magical Energy surged through my veins and coalesced around my fist in hundreds of thread-like patterns. A barrier was layered around it as Reinforcement strengthened my flesh to the hardness of stone. [1]

My fist crashed against the Dragon Tooth Warrior's lower jaw as cracks spread out upon the beast's skull.

But it did not even twitch from the pain and showed but one reaction as its jaws snapped open and then clamped down on my hand.

"...A-Agh!" I grunted in agony as the jolt nearly knocked me out of my senses. "Get off me, you bastard—!"

I thwacked it hard on the ribs with the broom as I channelled my Magical Energy through the wood for Reinforcement. The handle instantly shattered even with that but the force was enough to knock the Dragon Tooth Warrior back as it let go of my now badly wounded palm.

My eyelids were damp from the tears as I clutched the wound with my other hand.

Gritting my teeth, I used Reinforcement on what remained of the broom and promptly chugged it towards the Dragon Tooth Warrior.

However, it merely parried the projectile away with a quick swipe of its cleaver-like sword as the blood on its reptilian maw, my blood, trickled down onto its bones, painting its skeleton in a constrast of red and white.

I narrowed my eyes and kept my breathing slow yet steady as the Dragon Tooth Warrior released a low rumble from the sinister vibrations of its bones.

Relatively speaking, Dragon Tooth Warriors weren't supposed to be that powerful. In fact, they were quite weak as their main purpose was to largely act inside of an attack group rather than alone like this indvidual.

Relative was the important word.

A trained soldier like Tim would have a moderately easy time handling one, a few well-placed spear strikes could do the job. It wouldn't have even been noteworthy had he done so.

But no matter how much I called myself a Hero, Chosen One, or whatever it was that the Gods were trying to make me today, I was still but a scrawny 11-year-old in reality.

...In other words, I was outmatched, cooked, and ready to be served.

Trust my damned luck. Of all places to nearly die, it had to be the one I thought was invincible. Fuck all, I guess

But where is Father anyway? Shouldn't he have at least been somewhat alerted from all of this commotion by now?

With a wince, I glanced back at the Dragon Tooth Warrior.

It took a step forward, but as the entire world now consisted of only it and myself in my mind, it might has well have crossed an infinite distance.

Deciding on the best course of action, I took a stance and...

I ran.

.

.

.

(A/N)

And that's the fourth chapter complete, what do you think of the first hint of action, was it any good?

For boosting the engagement, here's a question, which Greek characters do you want to make a future appearance in this story?

If you appreciate my work, please comment, review, and give me you Power Stones to empower my motivation!

[1] "Dýnami", it translates to might, or force. Which works either way in this context.